


If Things Were Different

by Vinctia



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Little to no vulgarity though, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tags May Change, This is purely an excuse for shameless shipping, Will be updated from time to time, one shots, rated M for smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinctia/pseuds/Vinctia
Summary: A series of one-shots that involve smut. That's it. That's literally it. What else do you want me to write?





	1. Witcher In Charge (Regis/Geralt)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is my excuse to writing them, since I canonly see a lot of the ships to be more bro-ship or deep friendship, so this is a bucket of "what if". Very thinly disguised excuse, I know. I'll be updating them whenever and some one-shots may be tied together, I dunno. It'll be mostly Witcher 3 pairings, but we'll see. Also may contain crack-pairings in the future.  
> Enjoy!

"Geralt..." Regis sighed into the night air, hands clutching at the witcher's bare back. He bit his lower lip, worried it between his teeth as Geralt's own teeth nipped along his neck. Such a small touch and yet it set his skin afire, desire running down through his body. They hadn't moved from where the kiss had left them kneeling. Neither witcher nor vampire had let the other guide, leading to a tie for a fleeting moment or two. Now Geralt was taking over, hands roaming Regis' back in search of sensitive spots through his tunic while his mouth was wreaking havoc on his neck.

It was unfair, really. Regis was still mostly clothed while Geralt had thrown off his shirt earlier. The vampire couldn't for the life of him remember why, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter because Geralt's hands tugged his tunic up far enough to venture beneath it and run up his sensitive back, making him arch against him and gasp. His head tilted back, leaving more of his throat exposed to the witcher's teeth, which the man quickly took advantage of. One thing kept leading to the next and Geralt was quick to pick them up, leaving Regis somewhat at a disadvantage for once. He wasn't complaining, however.

Adventurous hands ran from his back along his sides, fingers trailing across his ribs and he felt every touch. Every callous, every nick and scar along the palms of his hands. It was enough to make him close his eyes for a moment, letting out a soft breath. His senses were alight, lit ablaze by the witcher before him. He was hyper aware of the fabric of the tunic he wore, aware of his gentle hands, the heat emanating from him, the breaths against his neck, the touch of teeth and lips and tongue. And the scents... oh stars above, the scents! Whenever he breathed deep, he got a lungful of so many smells that clung to Geralt. Oils, potions, blood, dirt, river-muck, herbs of so many kinds, sweat... and the scent that belonged to Geralt alone. Unique. Intoxicating.

 

One hand tangled in the witcher's milk-white hair and Regis drew him in for another kiss, lips and teeth and tongue all in one. Hands hiked up his tunic, fingers wandering over his chest, passing over sweet spots and making him gasp softly between their lips. While they were unhurried, Geralt didn't pull on the garment further, which prompted him a somewhat confused look from Regis when their kiss ended. The witcher simply gave him the smallest of smiles, his pupils blown wide with desire before he dipped to give the top of Regis' chest a kiss.

The vampire leaned back somewhat, one hand supporting him while the other remained entangled in Geralt's mane of hair. Tongue and lips danced over his skin and despite not needing air, Regis panted softly. Perhaps it was a reflex, perhaps something to do to avoid making the witcher uncomfortable. It didn't matter. What mattered was his breath hitching when Geralt's hand cupped the front of his trousers, giving him a light squeeze.

 

"G-Geralt..." he breathed, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. Geralt merely looked up at him for a moment before _winking_ at him and moving further down his front. One hand ran up Regis' pale chest, giving him a gentle push and the vampire followed, leaning back with flexibility one didn't quite expect him to have. Even Geralt hadn't expected that, simply thinking that he would lie down the entire way, but no. He was still kneeling, thighs spread apart, back horizontal and one hand still entangled with Geralt's hair, encouraging him to go on. And he would most definitely go on for that little trick. He hadn't even gotten his trousers off of him yet and still he looked like a hot mess, tunic hiked up, breath coming out short, back arched just a bit, body stretched as it was... How could he not accept that invitation? He was only a witcher, after all.

Calloused hands ran over his sides, down to his hips, teasing around the edge of the fabric in his way. In this position he wouldn't be able to pull them off the entire way... but he wouldn't have to. That's what drawstrings were for. Deft fingers able to undo a corset in a matter of moments went to work and Regis gasped as the cool night air made it very clear to him that he was a bit more bare than he was a moment ago.

 

And then the warmth hit him, enveloped him. Sweet, wet warmth and he couldn't help but gasp. Never had he expected Geralt to do that, even if he had imagined it on lonelier nights. But he wasn't about to complain, oh no. Not that he could form coherent sentences at that point. Mere sounds escaped his throat, hitched breaths, needy moans. He closed his eyes, wanting to feel it more, become lost in the sensations. Lips, tongue, trace of teeth, wandering hands, hot breath. It was almost too much, too good.

 

"G-Geralt-!" he gasped, both hands now tangled in milk-white tresses, wanting both to push him away and pull him closer. He was teetering on the edge, so close, so very, very close. It felt like a million miles away. His toes curled in his shoes, breath coming in short. He held it, mouth open in a silent syllable as his body tensed, arched, strung like the finest of bows. A moment passed and he breathed again, hands falling away. The warmth receded and Geralt's lips began the slow journey up his front, placing small butterfly kisses the whole way. He reached his ear at some point, eons later as Regis slowly regained his senses.

 

"Hope I haven't worn you out too much," he whispered, voice gravelly, worn, deep. Regis grinned.

 

"Give it a moment... vampiric stamina will kick in, not to worry."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-read by stillectric and little---games on tumblr, thanks to both of you!


	2. Tongue (Dettlaff/Regis)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by stillectric from tumblr. Also dedicated to them, because they very much indulged and encouraged me. You know what I'm talking about, Stills. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID.  
> Beta'ed by stillectric and little---games from tumblr.

Strong arms wrapped around Regis' middle and a familiar face buried itself in his neck, hot breath dancing over his skin. He chuckled softly, one hand reaching for one of Dettlaff's, covering it for a moment or two. Reassurance. He smiled, feeling the warm body behind him press up against him, holding him close. He didn't have the heart nor want to push him away or tell him off. Couldn't dream of it, even if he was busy with his alchemy. Well, not the alchemy itself, per say, he was merely preserving ingredients to be used for later, making sure they wouldn't waste in the meantime. Both hands went back to work while Dettlaff's remained around Regis' middle. They stood there for a while the two of them, just enjoying the closeness of the other, the warmth from another body.

Then Regis nearly crushed the flower in his hand as a slick, wet tongue ran up the back of his neck, causing a hell of a shudder through his body. A small, involuntary noise left his lips, face scrunching up just a bit with pleasure. Dettlaff knew just which buttons to push and how. He could play him like a fiddle if he so wished, plucking his strings to bring out the most perfect of tunes that could make Regis sing or give him full-body shivers. He knew him better than he knew himself, but it was true the other way around as well. A result of the bond between them. Hyper aware of the other and entirely knowledgeable of their strengths and weaknesses.

The tongue came back, just the point of it teasing over Regis' neck vertebrae and up to his hairline, causing another shudder and another small noise to escape his throat. He knew that pointed tongue. Dettlaff had let his guise fall. He meant business and Regis wasn't about to refuse him.

 

He let go of whatever was in his hands to avoid accidentally destroying anything, before grabbing the edge of the table. He knew he'd need something to hold onto if this was heading where he thought it was heading. And it was. It always was. Dettlaff was a creature of habit and Regis didn't mind it one bit. Especially not when a hand moved up his front, fingers closing around his chin, his jaw, moving his head to expose his pale throat. It wasn't needed. With the simplest of nudges, Regis would've tilted his head far to allow Dettlaff room, but something about the touching, feeling, made it all that more intense. Pleasurable.

His pointed tongue ran over the side of his neck, from the junction at his shoulder and up to his ear, followed by teeth which bit down gently. Another involuntary gasp left Regis. He'd be doing a lot of that tonight. He did silently thank his past self for having replaced his coat and high-collared doublet with a simple tunic, giving Dettlaff ample expanses of skin to lave over. And not tear his clothing out of frustration as he was wont to do.

Dettlaff's free hand moved further down, slowly, reaching his waistline to tug at his tunic. Not urgently, not impatiently, more... teasingly, actually. Teasing that he just might go further, that bare hands might just come into contact with his skin. The idea was a lovely one and Regis tilted his head back with a soft sigh. Dettlaff's hand on his jaw tightened its hold and he went in for the 'kill', teeth biting down a bit harder though not hard enough to break skin. This rewarded him with a soft moan and a slightly arched back. Another moan tore from his throat when Dettlaff's hand surged beneath his tunic and touched bare skin, setting hyper aware nerves alight.

 

It was one thing to be vampiric and feel everything tenfold. The senses were strong, finely tuned, perfect for hunting. Every feeling upon skin was amplified to tell the owner every bit of crucial information that might lead him or her to the next kill. But to have those senses coupled with a blood bond? That was something else. The senses weren't just finely tuned, they were crystallized, cut in diamond. Blood brethren could tell so much about the other from simply shaking hands. They could not directly link thoughts and speak the other person's mind, but they could read them better than an open book. Emotions, physical conditions, weaknesses, strengths... All this was especially felt on soft spots and sensitive skin. Like hands. Or the thin skin of the abdomen.

The herbalist let out a purr as Dettlaff's warm hand ran over his stomach and upwards, trailing over his flesh. Every nerve on the way was lit up and Dettlaff knew it. And of course he'd take advantage of it, letting his hand trail from his partner's front to his back, feeling over his ribs on the way there. Nails ran down next to his spine, lightly, teasingly, eliciting another moan from Regis. His back arched so very beautifully, an involuntary motion. Dettlaff knew just how to coax those out of him and he enjoyed every single one.

His mouth let go of Regis' neck, pointed tongue giving the skin a final lick before both hands reached down to pull his tunic up. Regis himself aided with this and soon his chest was bare. Pointed nails ran over the newly exposed flesh, dragging a shudder with them.

 

"Dettlaff..." Regis managed, grasping his hands. The other stilled a moment, questioning, a soft purr in the back of his throat. Regis turned in his arms to face him, a soft smile on his lips and eyes half-lidded. Hands came up to the neck of his coat, deft fingers beginning to unbuckle it. So he thought him a bit too clothed, hm? Well, he couldn't argue with that but he would give him a difficult time undressing him. Pointed nails ran down Regis' back again, causing another moan and such a delicious expression on his face. Dettlaff smiled and leaned in to bite at his lovely throat again and Regis abandoned his task for a moment to wrap his arms around his neck, hands clutching at his coat.

Dettlaff could do this forever, just to hear the sweet little noises he draw out from the other. Small purrs, moans, gasps, even whimpers. He just had to angle his head just so and bite at just this spot and Regis was putty between his hands. But it worked both ways and that was the other reason he so enjoyed this. It was not one-sided pleasure. They both indulged the other, cared.

Regis placed both hands on Dettlaff's chest, giving him a small push. Teeth let go of his neck and he pulled back a little though his hands never left him. He wanted something and needed mind to say it. It always sent a flutter through him to know just how his actions affected him.

 

"That's... That is unfair, Dettlaff. And you know it," Regis scolded him somewhat, that mildly playful look in his eyes. Dettlaff purred and nuzzled his cheek. He wasn't about to defend himself from that, it was the bare truth. But his fingers ceased the torture so Regis could continue his task of disrobing him. Fingers were dexterous, fast, undoing buckles and belts until he could push the coat over his shoulders. Dettlaff shrugged it off, drawing his hands away long enough to do so but they were right back on Regis' sides, pointed nails growing into long claws to very lightly draw across his skin. Again the other shuddered, hands stilling for a moment. But only a moment, then he continued his task to pop the buttons on Dettlaff's doublet.

Moments later, they were both without upper clothes, bare to each other. And they wasted no time to let their hands wander, claws and pointed nails drawing over pale skin, eliciting moans and purrs. Before long, Dettlaff had moved them both to a bed, whether it belonged to one or the other was of no matter. It was a soft surface, that was all that mattered. Strong hands moved them around until Regis was face-first on the sheets and Dettlaff was leaning over him. Once again that pointed tongue made a return, dragging up from the base of his neck and to his hairline. A sweet noise sounded from Regis' lips, making Dettlaff purr in response.

 

Muscles rippled beneath his fingers and he knew what that led to. Before Regis could become his own beast, Dettlaff leaned down to bite him, tugged at his neck and growled deeply. Regis knew that biting, tugging, knew what the growling meant. He was not supposed to let his own guise fall as the other had done. Dettlaff wanted to pretend and urged Regis to follow his example. He wanted to be the stronger dominating the weaker, be in control. Regis indulged him. Sometimes he just needed it. So he would play along now, playing the lesser, the... human, if you will. The mortal succumbing to the stronger vampire, at his mercy entirely.

Sometimes, just sometimes, the myths and folk-tales could be fun to indulge in, even if more than two thirds was pure nonsense. Regis chuckled softly, folding his arms under his chin and simply let Dettlaff do as he pleased. And the other vampire did exactly as he pleased, long claws raking down Regis' pale back to make him gasp. His long, pointed tongue laved over his skin, starting at the base of his neck and moving downwards. His claws followed, making Regis produce a very interesting keening noise, his back arching and his hands grasping a hold of the sheets beneath him. Dettlaff could get used to hearing that sound, and so he did it again. And again. And again, until Regis was a trembling mess.

 

And he had only just begun...

 

 


End file.
